


12 Days of Ficmas

by RedHeadedWoman



Series: Tales of the BatFamily [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Ficmas, batfam, batfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHeadedWoman/pseuds/RedHeadedWoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Christmas fics set in the Tales of the Batfamily verse but reading that verse isn't necessary at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Christmas Swears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a headcanon from incogneat-oh: 
> 
> During the whole of December, the boys use festive or Christmas-themed swears. (“Jumping jingle-bells, that was fast!”, “What the flying reindeer–?”, “I’ll deck your halls if you’re not careful, kid.”) It drives Bruce nuts.

Bruce loves his boys. Honest. But sometimes he wonders why he’s the one who has to put up with this.

_This_ being their penchant for using … odd swears for the whole month of December.

Dick had, not surprisingly, started the whole thing and he’d managed to influence his brothers into doing the same thing.

Bruce thinks that if Dick turned his focus onto other, more worthy, pursuits then maybe he’d be … actually no, scratch that. Bruce probably doesn’t want to know what Dick could achieve if his focus and utter determination was turned elsewhere.

Bruce wonders (not for the first time) what exactly he’s done to deserve this horror. Year in and year out.

‘Jumping jingle-bells, that was fast!’ Dick had exclaimed as they’d watched Tim chase after a fleeing Damian.

‘What the flying reindeer–?’ Tim had questioned over the comms when he’d come across a pile of refuse in the middle of the shopping centre after hours.

‘I’ll deck your halls if you’re not careful, kid.’ Jason had threatened a gang member who’d said something to him.

(The kid had stared at the Red Hood for a moment before laughing and racing away.)

And, then, worst of all had been Damian. The one he’d thought he was safe from regarding this kind of rubbish. ‘Festive hall, Grayson, act your age.’

Bruce had stared at his youngest while he continued his argument with Dick. After several moments, Bruce stood up and walked away to locate Alfred.

At least, Alfred could be trusted. Right?

‘Alfred,’ the man in question turned to Bruce with a raised eyebrow. ‘Damian’s doing it as well.’

‘Doing what, sir?’

‘The festive swears thing, Alfred. Damian’s doing it.’

‘Festive swears? I’m sure I have no decking idea what you’re talking about, Master Bruce.’


	2. Jason's Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on another headcanon from incogneat-oh:
> 
> Jason is actually secretly the biggest Christmas fiend. Everyone thinks he gets really surly around the holidays because he won’t let anyone in his place, but it’s really so no one can see his winter wonderland of a lounge-room full of tacky decorations and bunting and Santa wall-hangers and Christmas count-downs and bits of tinsel. And his over-decorated tree. 
> 
> He also listens to Christmas carols like nobody’s business.

_Hark the herald angels sing_  
“Glory to the newborn King!  
Peace on earth and mercy mild  
God and sinners reconciled”  
Joyful, all ye nations rise

The sounds of Jessica Simpson’s wonderfully Gospel version of the carol wound its way through the apartment as Jason finally slumped down onto his couch.

It had taken him the better part of two days to put together his apartment for the Christmas season. And now, at six pm on the first of December, he’d finally finished. And his apartment looked fucking awesome.

Not to toot his own horn. (Much.)

There were lights hanging in _and_ across every window, a wreath on the door and the window where he and certain other vigilantes came in, fake snow on mantelpieces and shelves, ornaments fucking everywhere, tinsel across doorways, and the biggest tree that he could get decorated to the nines.

Jason surveyed his domain and felt completely at ease. Growing up, he’d never gotten to have a “proper” Christmas. His mum would always try her best, of course, but they never really had the money to buy a real tree. So instead, they’d gather together some bare branches from all over Gotham and put them into a flower pot and drape some tinsel over it. Jason continued this tradition by placing a similar “tree” on the dresser in his bedroom.

Christmases at the Manor had, of course, been vastly different.

Alfred and Dick always make a massive effort in decorating the entirety of the Manor. Bruce tends to hide away from Dick and his enthusiasm for as long as he can before being roped into helping. Jason’s first Christmas at the Manor had been over whelming to say the least, but it had been the best by far.

Alfred had started the initial preparations several days before December even began (which Jason now did) by gathering everything together and moving around some furniture to accommodate the various trees. The real decorating began with the five trees going up and being decorated mostly by Alfred. However, one of the trees was reserved for decoration by Bruce, Dick, and Jason. Bruce had emerged from his office to help with that and to gift Jason with a bright red bauble with his name emblazoned across it.

And after the trees, garlands went up on banisters and windows, fake snow on shelves and mantelpieces, lights everywhere, candle holders, signs, wreaths on every bedroom door and the front door, every type of decoration you could imagine.

Eventually, on the third or fourth day of December, the lights on the outside of the Manor went up. And wasn't that a fucking eye opener. Watching Batman up on a ladder trying to hang fairy lights while Alfred and Dick directed him from the ground. That first Christmas Jason had ended up on the roof helping Bruce to reach some of the harder spots. Most fun ever.

But now, Jason decorated his apartment all by himself. In some ways, he preferred it that way. This way Dick couldn't nag at him to put things in a certain spot, Alfred couldn’t give him a look about some of the older decorations he had or the apartment in general. It was perfect and maybe kinda lonely.

Jason closed his eyes and let _Silent Night_ wash over him. Sometimes he wished for the days when he’d climb on the roof to help with lights, to watch Alfred bake cookies, drinking Dick’s strong as fuck eggnog, the stupid traditions. But Jason just couldn't see himself ever being able to go back to that.

‘Little wing!’

Jason whipped around at the sound of Dick’s voice and saw him standing in the doorway looking around.

‘Your place looks awesome, Jay.’ Dick beamed over at him.

‘What are you doing here, Dick?’ Jason stood up and walked around the back of the couch.

‘‘m here for your help, Jay.’

‘What?’

‘B’s tryna put up lights and he almost brained himself on the gutter. We need you, Jay, please.’

Jason stared at the utterly dejected look on Dick’s face. ‘Fucking fine.’

Dick smiled again and held Jason’s jacket out towards him. Jason yanked it off him and together they left for the Manor.

Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be so lonely after all.

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas_  
Let your heart be light  
Next year all your troubles will be   
out of sight  
Have yourself a merry little Christmas  
Make the Yule-tide gay  
Next year all our troubles will be  
miles away  
Once again as in olden days  
Happy golden days of yore  
Faithful friends who are dear to us  
Will be near to us once more  
Someday soon, we all will be together  
If the Fates allow  
Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow  
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Jessica Simpson carol at the beginning is probably my favourite version of _Hark! The Herald Angels Sing_. I highly recommended watching it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3yZ9syTfwc


	3. Damian's Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Eve and Damian can't sleep. Instead, he hears ... something. A bell, maybe? Laughter? Whatever it is will not remain a mystery for much longer.

It was Christmas Eve and Damian lay in bed staring up at the dark ceiling wishing for sleep.

The day had been spent pursuing several utterly ridiculous traditions that had either begun with Grayson or with his grandparents. Utterly ridiculous and now he couldn’t sleep.

Damian had tried everything he could think of. Meditation, calming music, even counting sheep, for goodness sake. None of it had worked and Damian was seriously beginning to consider going to his father and requesting to sleep there. However, Grayson had informed him that leaving his room on Christmas Eve was bad luck as Santa Claus would not come. Damian did not believe in this Santa Claus person at all but he did not want to disappoint Grayson.

Not that he would ever admit to that.

Damian sighed and rolled out of bed and began doing some simple stretches hoping to tire himself out. After several minutes, Damian froze at the sound of a bell. He held his pose for a moment to see if the sound came again but when it didn't he continued with the stretch.

Once Damian had finished the set, he slid back beneath the bed covers and settled down to sleep.

_In, hold, hold, out, in, hold, hold, out, in, hold, hold, out, in, hold, hold, out, in, hold, hold, out, in, hold, hold, out._

Damian held in the last breath at the sound of a bell again. He looked towards the window where he thought the sound was coming from and he very carefully slipped out of bed and belly crawled over to the window. Damian drew in several deep breaths before slowly rising up to look out the window.

There was nothing there.

Damian kept watching and remained as still as possible hoping to hear the sound again.

Finally, after several minutes, just as his knees were beginning to protest, there was the jingling sound and _laughter_. But there was absolutely nothing there. Damian frowned, annoyed, and stood up to search the empty night for any signs of movement. He could still hear the soft jingling bell and faint laughter.

Damian huffed, deciding that he must be imagining things due to lack of sleep and clambered back into his bed to begin his breathing routine _again_.

…

‘Ya must’ve heard Santa, Dami!’ Grayson exclaimed.

It was now Christmas morning and Damian sat on the floor with Grayson, Todd, Drake, Pennyworth, and Father surrounded by gifts and discarded wrapping paper. Damian had had made the mistake of mentioning what he had heard the night before.

‘Don't be so ridiculous, Grayson.’ Damian declared as he opened his new set of charcoals.

‘No, Dami, listen,’ Grayson bounced forward and took the new set away from him. ‘You heard Santa Claus last night, without a doubt.’

‘Santa Claus does not exist.’

‘How do you know, Master Damian?’

‘Because, Pennyworth, Santa Claus could not possibly exist.’

‘But how d’you know that?’ Todd added.

Damian stared at the man. Of all of them, Damian had not expected Todd to believe in Santa Claus.

‘What?’

Oh, yes, very articulate, Damian. Well done.

(Shut up.)

‘What proof do you have that Santa does not exist?’ Drake asked barely looking up from a new book.

‘What proof is there that he does exist?’ Damian countered.

‘Point.’ Drake acceded laughing lightly.

‘Santa is real, Dami,’ Grayson placed a finger beneath Damian’s chin and forced him to make eye contact. ‘Santa is magic, that’s how he gets to all of the good boys and girls at Christmas. It’s how he knows who’s been good and who’s been bad.’

‘Shut up, Grayson. Father, make him stop.’

‘I wish I could, son. God knows, I wish I could.’ Father smiled at Damian from his armchair.

‘Shush, you,’ Grayson treated Father to a smile. ‘Dami, Santa’s real.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Fine,’ Grayson pressed a kiss to Damian’s forehead. ‘But next year, maybe you’ll see him and then you’ll believe me.’

‘Unlikely.’

As Grayson and the others returned to their gifts and the festive spirit, Damian began concocting plans to put into place next year to discover the truth of Santa Claus.


	4. Making Snowmen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Dick wants to do is make snowmen with his brothers. So why are they making it so hard?

Dick stood back, watching as his brothers argued over how they should make a snowman. Just think about that for a second, there’s only one way to make a snowman and they were arguing about it. So much for a peaceful day of family bonding.

‘What are they arguing about?’

Dick smiled at Cass who had materialised beside him. They hadn’t expected Cass for at least another week.

‘How to build a snowman,’ Dick threw an arm around his sister’s shoulders and pulled her in against his side. Cass smiled up at him and snuggled in, totally just for the warmth. ‘They’ve been at it for almost an hour.’

‘Why?’

‘No idea.’

Cass hummed softly and narrowed her eyes at their brothers. It was getting to the stage where Dick was genuinely concerned about blood being spilled.

‘I thought there was only one way.’

‘There is, Cass, there is.’ Dick replied sourly. He just didn’t get why they were arguing.

‘Idiot brothers.’

‘I could not agree with you more,’ Dick squeezed Cass’s shoulders. ‘Wanna make one together?’

Cass nodded and together they began to gather up the snow needed for the body of the snowman. Dick and Cass rather lost themselves in the actions and so didn’t notice that the fighting between the others had stopped.

Dick and Cass finished building the snowman and started sorting through the bits and pieces that had long ago been set aside by Alfred for the specific use of snowman clothing. Dick glanced up from his search and saw his brothers watching him and Cass.

‘Yes?’

‘What are you doing?’ Tim asked.

‘Picking out clothes for the snowman me and Cass made. Geez, Timmy.’

Dick laughed at the bitch face Tim gave him and returned to his search for a scarf. It was then that Cass pressed the scarf Dick had been searching for into his hands. Dick smiled at his sister and wrapped the threadbare scarf around the “neck” of the snowman. Cass joined him and sat a Santa hat on the snow-head and added a pair of sunglasses.

‘Sunglasses, Cass?’

‘Cool Santa.’ She replied deadpan. Dick stared at her for a moment before dissolving into raucous laughter.   

When his laughter died down, Dick turned back to his brothers to see them still staring. ‘Wanna build some snowmen?’

His three little brothers shared a look between them and then began to build their own snowmen. Dick grinned at them and stood back at watch for a few moments.

Things had been getting steadily better between all of them, especially between Jason and the rest of the family. Things weren’t anywhere near perfect (yet, give him a chance, geez) but they were a helluva lot better and that’s more than Dick could’ve hoped for.

Cass came along and poked at Dick’s cheek to gain his attention. Dick smiled softly at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead before beginning in on another snowman.

By the time the sun went down and Alfred forced them to come inside, they had built an army of snowmen. Damian was trying to come up with a way of making them real so that they could take over the world. Dick asked what would happen during summer and was immediately punched in the shoulder.

Dick counted that as a win.

(Shut up, it made sense. Kinda.)


	5. Charity Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every year the Batfamily gives gifts to children's charities and orphanages. This is the first time that Damian gets to help.

Damian stood at the entrance to the living room and stared in utter disbelief at the sight before him.

Father, Grayson, Todd, and Drake were sitting on the floor surrounded by gifts and wrapping paper. The dulcet tones of some Christmas carol was playing softly in the background while Grayson sang along happily and Drake requested a paper of scissors from Father.

‘What are you all doing?’

‘Dami! There you are; how was school?’

‘It was tolerable. Father, what is happening?’

‘Tradition.’ Bruce grunted as he struggled with a piece of sticky tape that had somehow ended up wrapped around his finger. Damian turned towards Drake, hoping that he would at least provide a more sensible answer.

‘We’re wrapping gifts to give to charities and orphanages. Would you like to help?’

Grayson had warned him at the beginning of this horrendous month to make nice with the others. Or at least pretend too. (Damian didn’t quite understand why but he had been threatened with hugs and painfully embarrassing gifts.)

Damian dumped his bag on the floor and pulled off his shoes before settling down beside Father and grabbing the nearest gift, a Barbie doll, as well as Father’s scissors and some paper.

‘Now, make sure you add a card saying if the present is for a boy or girl or either. So that the charity people know who to give it to.’

‘I gathered as much, but thank you for your obviousness, Grayson.’

‘You are very welcome, cutie.’ Grayson ruffled his hair and Damian barely managed to restrain himself from punching the idiot. But Father’s frustrated presence beside him stopped Damian from doing anything. Father was still attempting to remove the offending tape from his finger.

He was losing very badly so Damian reached out and removed the tape for him. Father smiled down at him gratefully and returned to his almost fruitless endeavour.

As the hours passed, Damian lost count of how many gifts he wrapped. But by the time Pennyworth announced dinner, his fingertips were getting numb and he had a crick in his neck and back. Damian stretched before following the others into the dining room for another of Pennyworth’s exquisite dinners.

‘What do we do with the gifts now?’

‘We’ll drop them off at the charities before heading out to a couple of orphanages. Including Colin’s.’ Dick added with a smile.

Damian brightened slightly at that. Ignoring the obvious good of their actions, it was a wonderful chance to see his only friend. Damian knew that he made others his age nervous or angry with his intelligence and vocabulary. But Colin was somehow immune to that. It made Damian … happy to know that someone who was not even remotely related to him was able to put up with him.

Not that’d ever willingly admit that. (Except perhaps to Colin.)

…

After dinner, they organised the large pile of gifts into several groups and loaded them into five cars. Two of the loads were dropped off at the main charity that dealt with this and the others were taken to three orphanages. At each of the orphanages, Bruce led them in with the bag of gifts lifted over one shoulder proclaiming that Christmas had come early. Damian would stand back and observe as the children would race out from wherever they were to throw themselves at Bruce and try to get at the gifts. And at every one, Bruce would take a seat with the gifts and each child would be led forward by Dick, there hand clasped in his, and they would be gifted with one present each.

When they reached Colin’s orphanage the same routine occurred but this time Damian was to lead the smaller children forward to his father. Damian was not … very good with small children but seeing the smiles lighting up their faces went some way to assuring him that they would not care about that.

And so it began. Damian led all of the under fives (and there were a depressing number of them) forward by the hand to Father and then let them climb all over the man and race back to their friends with their gift. For those unable to walk properly, Damian was expected to carry the squirming child to Father.

Although there were only three that were too young to walk, Damian was not enjoying the Herculean task of carrying children. He did, however, manage it. Dick once again took over with those over the age of five and Damian was finally able to spot Colin amongst all the children. Colin smiled at Damian before turning his attention back to the spectacle occurring before him.

When Dick offered Colin his hand for his turn, Damian was happy to see Colin roll his eyes but he still took hold of Dick’s hand and followed him up to Father. Father smiled at Colin and passed him a gift as Colin muttered a soft thank you and offered up a smile before retaking his place.

When all of the gifts had been handed out, they stayed a while to play with the children, while Father spoke with the nuns about how they were managing before discreetly handing them a cheque and coming to play with the children as well. Father had done this at every one of the orphanages and Damian had not felt at all jealous of the children Father had played with.

That had surprised Damian. He had been jealous of Drake in the beginning before understanding that Father would inevitably treat them all differently. But watching how Father interacted with other children actually made Damian happy. It proved to him what Grayson had been telling him all along: Father did, in fact, know how to relax and have fun.

Besides Damian was too busy spending time with Colin to really notice anything else. Colin was currently opening his gift, the first three Harry Potter books.

‘Oh, wow, thanks, Dami.’

‘The gift is not really from me.’ Damian tried.

‘But I told you that I wanted these three.’ Colin replied cocking his head in confusion.

‘Well, yes, I know, but none of the gifts were labelled beyond a gender.’

‘Oh, well, thanks anyway.’ Colin reached out and pulled Damian into a quick hug.

It was only then that Damian remembered he had, in fact, informed his Father of Colin’s wish for the first three books in the series. Damian glanced over at where Father was helping some of the children build something with Lego. Father looked up and caught Damian’s eye. Father smiled at Damian before his attention was once again grabbed by the children around him.

Damian sought out the others to see what they were doing.

Grayson was demonstrating how to do a handstand to a group of awed children around his own age while simultaneously making sure that they knew all the words to _Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer._

Todd was holding court over a group who looked utterly enraptured with the man. Damian wasn’t sure he wanted to know what he was teaching them.

Drake was sitting at a small table with his group colouring in Christmas images that he had printed off at the Manor before they had left.

All of the children, regardless of their age, what gift they had received, or what they were doing, were overjoyed. All of them were smiling and laughing as they participated in the activities around them. Every so often a child would switch groups and would be just as happy.

‘Don’t you wish to join in these activities?’ he quietly asked Colin.

‘Nah, I’m good.’

‘Are you sure? I know that you enjoy colouring. Perhaps we could join Drake and colour in Santa Claus properly?’

‘Properly?’

‘The correct colours.’ Damian amended.

‘Ah, of course,’ Colin laughed softly at him. ‘Do you want to go colour?’

‘I will if that is what you want to do, Colin. That is why I’m here.’

Colin laughed at him again. ‘I’ll put these in my room and then I’ll come back and we can colour.’

As his friend left, Damian felt a small tug on his pants. There was a small girl beside him with blonde braids looking up at him.

‘Yes?’

‘Will you help me, please?’

‘Um,’ Damian looked around for anyone else who could take over but none of the adults in the room noticed. ‘What with?’

‘C’n you fix my plait?’ The girl tugged on the left braid to show that it was indeed coming apart.

‘I’m afraid I don't know how to plait hair.’

‘Oh,’ the girl looked down at the ground for a moment. ‘Will you try?’

‘I. Of course.’

The girl sat down in front of Damian and held out the offending braid. Damian carefully removed the band and used his fingers to brush the girl’s hair. As Damian inspected the other braid in an attempt to work it out, the girl (‘My name’s Abby, what’s yours?’) babbled at him about something or other. Damian was still braiding Abby’s hair when Colin came back, laughed at him, and went to join Drake.

When he had somehow managed to braid the girl’s hair, she surprised him with a kiss on his cheek before racing off to learn how to do a handstand from a laughing Dick.

Damian suppressed a smile of his own and went to join Colin and Drake, both of whom were laughing at him. Damian didn’t mind in the least.


	6. Timmy's Christmases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim hasn't always had the best Christmases but these are the ones that probably mattered most.

Little eight year-old Tim, stood beside the telephone waiting for it to ring. He had been waiting there, ignoring the questions of his newest nanny, for almost two hours now. He was awaiting the promised telephone call from his parents who were currently somewhere in Egypt.

He thinks.

When the telephone finally did ring, Tim ripped it out of the cradle and held the telephone to his ear.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello, Timothy, how are you?’

‘I’m well, Mother, thank you. How are you and Father?’ Tim was incredibly excited to be speaking with his mother but he tried not to show it too much lest he be told to act more appropriately.

‘Oh, we’re well, thank you. You know that we will not be home for Christmas but you’re gifts are all under the tree so you can still open them on Christmas morning. I have to go now, dear, so have fun and be good. Goodbye, Timothy.’

‘Goodbye, Mother. I love - ’ Tim stopped speaking when he heard the dial tone and gently placed the telephone back in the cradle.

He then made his way into the living room and stared up at the tree. It was almost six feet tall and immaculately decorated. There was nothing especially personal about the tree. Even the presents at the base were perfectly wrapped and no doubt contained something highly expensive that Tim would not necessarily like.

Oh, well, it was more than some people got. So little Tim wasn't going to complain or cry. Not this year anyway.

On Christmas morning, Tim would go downstairs and unwrap his presents by himself and would reheat the premade Christmas lunch and would eat it at the big dining table by himself.

And he would pretend that he didn’t mind.

…

Fifteen year old Tim stood in front of the Christmas tree in the brownstone pleased with his work. The five and three-quarter foot tree was lovingly decorated by Tim himself and was full of personality. There was even a small robin hidden amongst the branches so that his dad couldn’t find it.

The presents under the tree were wrapped well-enough to be presentable and most of them would be fairly cheap in comparison to what he used to receive. Not to mention the presents wrapped up in his bedroom for Dick, Bruce, Alfred, Conner, Bart, and Cassie.

Tim’s dad sat in his chair and had watched Tim decorating the tree and the house. Tim turned to his dad smiling.

‘What d’you think, dad? Look good?’

‘It looks wonderful, Tim. Well done,’ Dad gave him a small smile. ‘I should probably tell you now that I’m not sure if I’ll be here Christmas Day.’

‘What? Why not?’ Tim asked, confused. Tim had bought a turkey and had even gotten a recipe off Alfred.

‘There’s a lunch on that I’ve been invited too and I accepted.’

‘But, dad, I thought - ’

‘Tim, this is important. I knew that you would understand.’

‘Yes, dad. I understand.’

‘Wonderful. This place really does look good, son. Well done.’ Father smiled at him again and Tim quietly walked up to his room and put on some Green Day as loud as he dared.

And then preceded to tear apart his room. Tim was careful to not actually break anything but he pulled apart whatever else he could. After almost an hour of throwing things around, Tim collapsed face first onto his mattress, which had ended up on the floor.

Tim breathed deeply trying to calm himself down. He wasn’t sure why he’d thought this year would be any different to all of the others, but a guy could hope right?

Wrong, apparently.

Tim flipped over when he felt someone sit down on the mattress. Dick smiled down at Tim and ruffled his hair. Tim huffed and flopped back down face first (whilst trying not to be embarrassed over the fact that he was only in a pair of boxers) and tried to ignore Dick’s comforting presence next to him.

‘What happened to your room, Timmy?’

‘I took it apart.’

‘How come?’

‘Cause I wanted to.’

Dick sighed and lay down beside him. ‘Tell your big brother what happened, Timmy. Come on.’ Dick poked at Tim’s side until he huffed and rolled over onto his back.

‘Dad promised that we’d spend Christmas Day together. I even got a turkey. But then he told me today that he accepted an invitation for Christmas lunch.’

‘That’s pretty shitty. I’m sorry, little brother.’

‘‘s okay.’

‘No it isn’t,’ Dick pulled Tim in for a hug and pressed a kiss to his hair. ‘Come to the Manor for Christmas. Alfred makes an awesome pudding for dessert. It’ll be fun. Promise.’

Tim thought it over for a moment before nodding slightly. ‘I think I’d like that. Thanks, Dick.’

‘Of course, Timmy.’

…

Eighteen year old Tim Drake-Wayne stood before the main Christmas of the Manor surrounded by his family and smiled. The tree was messy and personal and utterly perfect. There were no presents beneath the tree just yet, mainly ‘cause they hadn’t been wrapped yet, but none of them would be wrapped perfectly and Dick’s wouldn’t even be presentable but it would still be perfect.

‘Well, I reckon that looks good enough.’ Dick said throwing his arms around Jason and Tim.

‘It looks horrible.’ Damian amended.

‘Pfft, whatever, Dami.’ Dick replied still grinning.

‘I think it looks fine.’ Tim threw in knowing that Damian didn’t give a damn what he thought.

‘Little bit shit.’ Jason said pushing off Dick’s arm.

‘Master Jay.’ Alfred scolded before presenting them all with a plate of cookies.

‘Sorry, Alfie. Thanks.’ Jason grinned biting into a cookie.

Bruce settled a hand lightly on Tim’s shoulder and reached past to snag a cookie for himself. Dick swatted at Bruce’s hand.

‘You didn’t help; no cookies for you.’

‘I did help, Dick. Now, shush and thank Alfred.’

‘Thank you, Alfred.’ Dick said grinning.

Tim stood back and listened to the banter going on between them all. Between his brothers, and Bruce, and Alfred. His family. The only family he’d ever really enjoyed spending Christmas with.

It was utterly perfect.

(Even if Damian did attempt to murder him over the lights going up over the front of the Manor.)


	7. Christmas Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce had known this was a bad idea from the beginning and yet he’d still agreed to go along.

Bruce had known this was a bad idea from the beginning and yet he’d still agreed to go along. Fool that he was.

When Dick had suggested that they all go Christmas shopping together that morning Bruce had agreed simply because Alfred had given him one of those looks. Alfred, of course, had begged off with some rubbish about having things to do around the Manor. He had then wished them good luck before they had left.

Bruce probably should have realised then.

As it was, there were people absolutely everywhere.

It was the middle of the week so really Bruce figured that most of these people should have been at work or something. And yet they were here, getting in the way of Bruce attempting to his herd his frankly terrifying children into some semblance of order.

It wasn’t going well.

Bruce snagged the back of Damian’s hoodie and pulled him back before he lost him in the crowds. Tim was sticking close to him as well, while Dick and Jason walked in front discussing where they should go next. Damian scowled up at him but Bruce ignored it in favour of grabbing the back of Dick’s jacket and hauling him back before he could race off by himself to some store. Jason smirked at Dick and tried to escape himself. Bruce used the arm Tim was almost clinging to in order to grab Jason and keep him in place.

Bruce then steered the lot of them off to the side away from the crowds. Maybe they needed a battle plan.

‘Tim, name a store you want to go to.’

‘What?’ Tim questioned but when Bruce raised an eyebrow Tim extracted a list from his pocket and scanned it. ‘Um, I only need to go to a bookstore.’

‘Fine. Damian?’

‘An art store.’

‘You aren’t buying presents for yourself, Dami.’

‘Its’ for Colin, Grayson.’

‘Dick, store.’

‘Um, candy.’

‘Fine. Jason.’

‘Ah, home wares.’

‘Good.’

Bruce pulled out his phone and searched for where the stores were in the mall.

‘Are you trying to make a battle plan?’

‘Trying? I’m succeeding,’ Bruce worked out where each of the stores were located and how to get to each with the least amount of fuss possible. ‘Right. Home wares, art, books, candy. Let’s go. Do _not_ move away from me.’

…

Alfred had spent a lovely day by himself reading and knitting a new scarf for Tim as a gift. It had been six hours since Bruce and the boys had left to shop for gifts at the shopping centre and Alfred was only now beginning to worry about them. He stood with the intention of calling one of them to ensure their safety when the door opened and they all traipsed in. Even the usually happy Dick was looking a little more morose than usual.

‘How was your shopping trip then?’

‘Alfred,’ Bruce said dumping what looked like a bag of tinsel on the floor. ‘We’ve ordered deliciously unhealthy pizza for dinner and none of us will be eating together.’

With that statement the four boys left for their rooms, though Dick spared a moment to look Alfred dead in the eye and say ‘I don’t like Bruce’s plans’.

‘Should I bother asking, Master Bruce?’

‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t.’

‘Very good, sir. Shall I bring your pizza to you when it arrives?’

‘Thanks, Alfred,’ Bruce smiled at him. ‘Also, never, ever again. Christmas shopping online from now on.’

‘Of course, sir.’ Alfred did not believe him for a second. Bruce smiled again and then disappeared off to his room with the bag of tinsel, as well as at least three other bags.

Alfred sighed and went to answer the door for the pizza.

Horrible, generic stuff.


	8. Christmas Carols

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the eve of Christmas Eve and Dick was excited. Although they didn't have any traditions for this night, Dick always played carols endlessly. 
> 
> But this year Jason has decided to change some things up.

It was the eve of Christmas Eve and Dick was excited. Although they didn't have any traditions for this night, Dick always played carols endlessly. His brothers always complained about it but Dick knew they all secretly loved it. Mainly ‘cause they would eventually sing along to the carols and even Bruce and Alfred would hum along.

Dick was currently perusing the back of a CD case wondering which song he’d subject his family to next. After looking over the track listings for what seemed like the hundredth time he finally settled on what was his favourite by far. It was guaranteed to get the others singing along.

‘And next up my favourite.’

‘Oh, Christ, here we go.’ Jason muttered from his spot on the floor where he was putting the finishing touches on a gingerbread house. Dick had no idea why Jason was doing this in the living room but whatever. At least he was there.

‘Oh, yes, here we go. _On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, a partridge in a pear tree_.’ Dick sang along happily bouncing in place while reading the track listing on another CD case.

‘Fuck’s sake, Dickie, at least try to sing in tune.’ Jason said while piping a pathway for the house.

‘Don't need to.’ Dick replied.

By the end of the song though his brothers were happily singing along and admiring Jason’s finished gingerbread house. Bruce was humming quietly from his armchair reading a book.

‘All right, next up iiisss, um, oh, I know.’ Dick flipped through the songs until he found the one he wanted and then proceeded to sing along at the top of his voice (though slightly more in tune).

_‘O Come, all ye faithful Joyful and triumphant, O come ye, O come ye To Bethlehem. Come and behold Him, Born the King of Angels …’_

Dick noticed that the only one really singing along was Jason. Dick knew about Jason’s utter love of Christmas carols and was more than happy to see Jason singing along and participating in this almost-tradition. Dick resolved to play all of Jason’s favourites.

When the song ended, Dick pretended to look through the listings but was really waiting for Jason and Tim to realise what the next song was and stop him from changing it.

‘Don't you dare change songs.’ Tim said from where he was curled up on the lounge covered by his Superman Snuggie (a gag gift from Dick for his birthday).

‘How come, Timmy?’

‘You know exactly why, Dick.’ Tim glared over at him and Dick gave a smile and shrugged before informing Tim that if he didn’t sing along it would be changed.

‘That’s evil, big bird.’

‘Oh, I know. Timmy, sing with me.’

_Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,_   
_The little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head._   
_The stars in the bright sky looked down where he lay,_   
_The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay._

_The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes,_   
_But little Lord Jesus no crying he makes._   
_I love thee, Lord Jesus; Look down from the sky,_   
_And stay by my side until morning is nigh._

_Be near me Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay_   
_Close by me forever and love me I pray_   
_Bless all the dear children in thy tender care_   
_And fit us for heaven to live with Thee there._

By the end, Tim was happily singing along instead of scowling at him, much like Damian was. Dick knew that his youngest brother did not like or understand Christmas carols but he (generally) put up with it.

As the next song started, Dick sat back and closely watched Jason. This song, _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_ , was Jason’s favourite by far but it did occasionally make Jay a little melancholy. As the singer began to croon at them, Jason leaned his head back against the lounge near Tim’s feet and closed his eyes.

Dick listened to the lyrics as they told about leaving your troubles behind and being together. All of them looked a little melancholy but happy at the same time. If that made any sense at all.

It probably didn't, but whatever, shut up.

When the song ended, Jason leapt forward and skipped songs to _Deck the Halls_ and promptly sang over the top:

_Deck the halls with parts of Wally,_   
_Fa la la la la, la la la la._   
_‘Tis the season for brains by golly,_   
_Fa la la la la, la la la la._

_Chew we now our friend’s grey matter,_   
_Fa la la la la, la la la la._   
_Wear old clothes ‘cause fresh brains splatter,_   
_Fa la la la la, la la la la._

_See the blazing town before us,_   
_Fa la la la la, la la la la._   
_Let’s go in and eat the chorus,_   
_Fa la la la la, la la la la._

_Follow me, we eat with leisure,_   
_Fa la la la la, la la la la._   
_A fresh brain for your Yuletide pleasure,_   
_Fa la la la la, la la la la._

Jason finished to a round of laughter and clapping though Dick felt he should be at least a little insulted on Wally’s behalf. That didn't stop him from clapping though.

‘Where did you learn that?’

‘Book I bought a while ago,’ Jason began flicking through the songs on the disc again before settling on his next choice, _Jingle Bells_. ‘Last one, though, promise.’

_Bleeding from the nose,_   
_There’s one left horse to slay,_   
_O’er the fields we go,_   
_Feasting all the way._   
_Bells on bobtails ring,_   
_Make undead spirits bright._   
_What fun it is to chew and sing_   
_An eating song tonight!_

_Oh, Zombie yells, Zombie yells,_   
_Howling all the way._   
_Oh, what fun it is to ride_   
_In an undead open sleigh!_   
_Zombie yells, Zombie yells,_   
_Chomping all the way._   
_Oh, what fun it is to ride_   
_In an undead open sleigh!_

_A day or two ago,_   
_I got a Zombie bite,_   
_And soon Miss Fanny Bright -_   
_I was chewing on her side._   
_The horse was lean and stank,_   
_But horse brains are our lot._   
_We got into a drifted bank_   
_And the horse he was upsot._

_Oh, Zombie yells, Zombie yells,_   
_Howling all the way._   
_Oh, what fun it is to ride_   
_In an undead horsey sleigh!_   
_Zombie yells, Zombie yells,_   
_Chomping all the way._   
_Oh, what fun it is to ride_   
_In an undead horsey sleigh, yeah!_

The last of Jason’s impromptu concert, though fairly morbid, was met with more clapping and laughter while Jason sat there looking very smug.

‘I’ve got more zombie versions of carols, but I reckon they can wait for another night.’

‘Those were good, Jay.’

‘Thanks, Dickie.’

Dick sat back and basked in his family. There was nothing Dick loved more than being surrounded by his family, especially at Christmas. It was a wonderful feeling even as Damian being to complain about having to listen to Christmas carols while Tim threw a cushion at him to keep him quiet.

All the same, it was good.

(Bruce was forced to leap forward and grab hold of Damian’s hoodie to stop him from attacking Tim.  Bruce pulled Damian in against his side and was refusing to let go. Tim laughed but was promptly silenced by a book to the stomach. Jason grabbed Tim’s ankle and hauled him to the floor and kept him pinned there. Dick couldn't have been happier.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book that Jason mentions is real. It’s called It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Zombies by Michael P. Spradlin and illustrated by Jeff Weigel. I highly recommended it if only to annoy Christmas loving relatives! 
> 
> You can find it on Amazon here: http://www.amazon.com/Its-Beginning-Look-Like-Zombies/dp/B003H4REHS


	9. Christmas Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As tradition dictated, Alfred organised the boys at the table in the kitchen separated as far as possible, each with their own equipment. There would be no sharing between them, unless absolutely necessary, and they were strictly not permitted to get in each other’s way.

As tradition dictated, Alfred organised the boys at the table in the kitchen separated as far as possible each with their own equipment. There would be no sharing between them, unless absolutely necessary, and they were strictly not permitted to get in each other’s way.

Dick and Tim were on one side and Jason and Damian were on the other (though Tim and Damian were not sitting opposite each other). Alfred and Bruce sat at either end of the table with the intention of being able to watch over two of the boys each whilst still doing their own thing.

That thing being decorating Christmas cookies.

‘Are they done yet, Alfie?’ Dick asked.

‘Not quite yet, Master Dick. Another ten minutes for them to cool.’ Alfred resumed his seat, looking over the equipment that they each had.

Bowls of different coloured icing, icing pens, piping bags, skewers and toothpicks, plates for the cookies, sprinkles, and aprons on them all.

As they waited the last ten minutes, the boys squabbled over how the cookies should be decorated and iced. Alfred sat back and watched his boys, while Bruce looked a little terrified at the prospect of icing cookies.

It was the same thing every year. Dick would be the most enthusiastic about the whole thing by far. Bruce would try his very best to hide away from this particular tradition until Dick and Alfred would inevitably guilt him into it. Damian would have to be physically dragged from his room by Dick to participant in any kind of Christmas activities. Jason liked to pretend that he didn't enjoy doing these kinds of things but he always arrived in the kitchen just after Dick had and desperately tried to hide his own enthusiasm. Tim would have to be gently reminded that they would be completing some tradition and could he please be in the kitchen at about one o’clock this afternoon, Master Tim, thank you.

(Alfred, of course, had everything organised so he was always first, even if a little of the enthusiasm was being used to mask the slight apprehension over the whole thing.)

Alfred was finally able to pass out twenty cookies to each of them (resulting in a hundred cookies, all of which would inevitably be eaten before Christmas Day) and they each got down to icing the cookies in various patterns and colours.

Alfred was making them a little festive though nothing too complicated. Bruce was covering the entire things in one uniform colour but eventually they became two toned things with some sprinkles thrown on. Dick was making them as festive as possible with proper patterns and Santa hats even if they were slightly messy. Jason’s method fell somewhere between Alfred’s and Bruce’s methods: festive but simple. Tim was making his cookies as perfectly festive as his equipment and skills would allow. Damian, as usual on these occasions, sat back for a few moments watching what the others did before he finally began to decorate his own by mixing together the various methods of the others.

As per the rules, there was no sharing of anything. If you ran out of something then you ran out. Simple and it avoided all of the fighting between the boys.

After three peaceful hours, all of the cookies had been decorated and were ready to be eaten. However, Alfred had always maintained that once the cookies were decorated they were to be put away in a hidden location until at least the next day. Bruce and Damian both escaped very quickly, while Dick, Jason and Tim helped Alfred clean everything up before leaving as well to mentally prepare for the next round of traditions.


	10. Bruce's Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have been hard since the deaths of Thomas and Martha Wayne but now its Christmas and Alfred is determined that his Master Bruce should enjoy the day.

Alfred watched as the young master sat by the window and stared out at the snow covered grounds. It had been several months since the young master Bruce had lost his parents and this Christmas was never going to be joyful but Alfred had sworn to do his best for his young charge.

It had worked for perhaps half an hour as young Bruce had opened his gifts beneath the tree. But as soon as he had opened the last gift, Bruce had seemed to remember that his parents were gone and that he had no real reason to be happy. He had politely thanked Alfred for the gifts and then moved to sit by the window.

Alfred sighed and announced that the Christmas lunch was prepared. Bruce looked around at Alfred and it was only then that the valet realised that he had been crying. Alfred quickly sat down beside the boy and wrapped an arm around him. The poor boy leant in against Alfred’s warmth and began sobbing in earnest against his shoulder.

Alfred had done his best in the months since their deaths to keep young Bruce happy and well. But the boy simply refused to allow himself some kind of happiness. Alfred had taken Bruce out to the zoo and museums, he had made the boy’s favourite dinners and desserts, he had managed to get his assistance with the decorating but even the joy from that had not lasted long.

‘I’m sorry, Alfred.’

‘Whatever for, Master Bruce?’

‘For cryin’ on you.’ Bruce pulled away and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

‘Master Bruce, do not ever apologise to anyone for crying. Do you understand me?’ Alfred gently forced Bruce’s chin up with the tip of his finger.

‘Yes, Alfred,’ Bruce sniffed and pressed in against Alfred once more. ‘I miss them, Alfred. I miss them so much.’

‘I know you do, Master Bruce,’ Alfred could admit that he had struggled with these conversations in the past. ‘I know that it is hard to truly come to terms with the loss of your parents. Especially at this time of year. But despite your loss, you are not alone, young master. I promise you that. You still have me, Master Bruce, I am still here. Although I cannot replace your mother and father, nor do I wish to, you still have me beside you. And I shall always be by your side.’

‘You promise, Alfie?’ Bruce looked up at Alfred with obvious hope in his eyes.

‘I promise you, Master Bruce. I promise,’ Alfred squeezed the boy’s shoulder and managed to get a smile out of him. ‘Now, shall we have lunch in front of the tree this year?’

‘In front of the tree?’

‘On the floor, Master Bruce. As though we were having a picnic.’

‘Really?’ Bruce’s eyes lit up at the thought of eating on the floor in the living room.

‘Really. Why don't you go and get out the picnic blanket?’

Bruce wrapped his arms around Alfred again before tearing off to dig out a picnic blanket. Alfred gathered up the food and together the two of them created a Christmas spread on the living room floor, bathed in the glow of wintery sunshine from the window and the lights from the tree. Soft Christmas carols played in the background as they ate their wonderful lunch.

Alfred feared for his young charges physical and mental wellbeing. And yet he was not sure how to help him. He had looked into taking Master Bruce to a counsellor of some sort but the boy had refused. He had refused every one of Alfred’s methods to get him to open up and smile and try to live his life.

Perhaps next year would be better. Or perhaps it would take another twenty before Master Bruce found something, or someone, to get him smiling again.

Alfred could only hope.


	11. Christmas Eve Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Eve at the Manor and the Batfamily are indulging in their traditions. Even if Tim's falling asleep.

Tim curled up the end of the lounge wrapped up in a blanket and waited for the rest of his insane family to come and sit down so that they could get started on the Christmas movies. They had stuffed themselves with a wonderful as always dinner from Alfred and everything was cleaned up and put away and now they all just had to change into something more comfortable and watch the movies that Dick always forced upon them.

(Mostly forced on them anyway)

Dick flopped onto the lounge beside Tim and dug his ankles out from beneath the blanket and pulled them onto his lap before fixing the blanket.

‘Dick.’

‘Shush,’ Dick flicked at his ankle as Jason and Damian sat down on the lounge as well. ‘Where’s B and Alfie?’

‘Alfie’s tryin’ to get B down here.’ Jason said as he settled a blanket around his own shoulders.

‘Can’t we just begin the movies now?’ Damian was sitting cross legged between Dick and Jason with his own blanket.

‘Nope. We gotta wait, li’l D.’

‘Stupid.’ Damian muttered and fended off Dick’s attempted to hug.

Tim sighed and rested his head against the cushion next to him and tried to sleep. He managed to get about five minutes of dozing before Alfred and Bruce arrived and _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ was thrown on. Dick jiggled his legs forcing Tim to open his eyes and pay attention to the movie.

Although Tim loved his family completely, he was tired and really did not feel up to watching some stupid movie about a holiday that he just wasn’t feeling this year.

All the same, Tim made sure that it at least seemed as though he were watching when he really he had completely zoned out and his eyes were beginning to slid closed.

‘ - Timmy, hey, Timmy. You in there, little brother?’

Tim shifted around and pressed his face against the couch cushion and groaned.

‘Oh, Timmy, baby,’ Dick ran his fingers over Tim’s hair. ‘You ain’t been sleepin’ properly, huh?’

‘Shh, sleeping now.’ Tim muttered.

‘Oh, li’l brother, it’s okay, shh,’ Dick pressed a kiss to Tim’s head. ‘We’re gonna put on _The Grinch_ next, okay? Or d’you wanna go up to bed?’

‘No, I’ll stay.’ Tim cracked open an eye to look at Dick who grinned at him.

‘Welcome back to the land of the living, baby bird.’ Jason pressed a glass into Tim and Dick’s hands. ‘Enjoy your eggnog.’

Tim took an experimental sip of Jason’s concoction and almost choked on how strong it was. Jason laughed at him and Dick who wasn't faring much better.

‘Jeez, Jaybird, that’s strong.’ Despite his reaction, Dick took another sip from his glass after the others came back into the room and the next movie was thrown on.

Tim settled in to watch this one. Tim actually quite enjoyed _The Grinch_ , mainly for the performance of Jim Carrey but also because listening to Dick and Jason sing along to the songs was the best part of Christmas Eve by far.

Towards the end of the movie, Alfred disappeared and returned with a pile of stockings for each of them to hang on the mantelpiece. After that was done (in age order and everything) they finished watching the end of the movie and Bruce said goodnight before leaving for a short patrol.

Ever since Bruce had taken Dick in, patrols on Christmas Eve and Day were short for Batman and non-existent for Robin. Bruce had wanted Dick to enjoy Christmas as much as possible and that wish had carried on to the rest of them.

After Bruce left, Alfred chased them all off to bed with threats of Santa not visiting if they remained awake for much longer. Though none of them believed him for a moment, Alfred Threats were to be taken seriously at all times.

Tim crawled into bed, in his special Christmas pyjamas (which Dick had given to all of them on the first Christmas that any of them had spent as Robin and then re-bought as they had grown) and tried to fall asleep, finally looking forward to Christmas Day.

Even though he knew that Dick would be in to wake him up earlier than was necessary and they would all attack Bruce to get him up and moving so that they could get down to their presents. And then there would be lunch and maybe more movies and carols and the best family that Tim could’ve hoped for.

(Fucking Christmas made him far too sentimental).

 


	12. Christmas Day Treasure Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason's first Christmas at the Manor has already been better than any other he's had. Bruce and Alfred have one last gift but they aren't gonna make this easy.

There was one last gift perched amongst the branches of the Christmas tree. The envelope had been saved for last by Bruce and Alfred but now Bruce indicated the Jason could take it. The front of the envelope loudly proclaimed _For Dick and Jason._  

Jason stared down at it for a moment before glancing at Bruce who gave him a small smile. Jason shrugged and moved to sit by the man who Jason was still fairly cautious of. It was nothing against Dick, even if he was kinda weird, but it was a fear that Dick would want to take Robin back from him and he would be forced out of the Manor and away from his new … family.

‘What’s up, Jaybird?’

Did he not mention the nicknames? Yeah, fucking nicknames.

‘This one is for both of us.’ Jason held the envelope to him so that Dick could see.

‘Better open it then.’ Dick gave Jason a reassuring smile so Jason ripped it open and pulled out a piece of paper.

An image of wreath surrounded the words:

_Don’t you worry,_   
_don’t you fear._   
_This is not_   
_your gift this year._   
_Clues will lead to_   
_something good._   
_Look for a clue_   
_where we store food._

After reading over it, Jason looked up at Dick. ‘I don't get it.’

‘It’s a scavenger hunt, Jay! We gotta follow the clues to find the present.’

‘Is it a training exercise?’ Jason questioned Bruce.

‘No, Jason, it isn’t. It’s meant to be fun. Besides, it was Alfred’s idea.’

‘You will need to work together to find the clues and your final gift, Master Jay.’

Jason stared at the old man and realised that this was a ploy to get him and Dick working together in the hopes that they would become friendlier to each other. Well played, old man, well played.

‘Fine. We keep food in the kitchen.’ Jason didn't bother waiting for Dick and began for the kitchen. Jason momentarily stopped what he finally arrived. He had forgotten how big the kitchen was.

‘Come on, we can find it easy.’

Dick eventually found the clue hidden beneath a biscuit barrel. On the page was another image of a wreath and another clue.

  _That was quick;_  
 _you’re pretty smart._  
 _You and your gift_  
 _aren’t far apart._  
 _Search for a clue where_  
 _Dasher loves to run to_  
 _keep cold, all day_  
 _and all night long._

‘Keep cold all day and all night long?’ Jason read over the clue again. ‘The fridge!’

Jason ripped open the fridge and found the third clue tucked in beside the eggs.

_You’ve done real well,_   
_not long to go._   
_Comets can fly_   
_all through the night,_   
_and so can Aladdin_   
_assuming that he_   
_remembers to use this._

Dick and Jason looked up at each other and instantly ran off to begin searching through all the rugs in the Manor. They eventually fount the next clue in Bruce’s office beneath the ugliest rug Jason had ever seen.

_Not bad,_   
_you found me,_   
_quite a feat._   
_You’re almost there,_   
_so don’t retreat._   
_You’ll find a clue_   
_where prancing around_   
_may get you hurt._

‘What?’

‘I have no idea,’ Dick read the clue aloud to try and understand the damn thing. ‘Where prancing around may get you hurt?’

‘That could be anywhere in this place, or the cave?’

‘No clues in the cave.’ Bruce offered from where he and Alfred stood in the office’s doorway watching them. Alfred, the evil old man, had been filming them the whole time.

‘Prancing around? What the hell does that mean?’

‘Messing around, I think.’ Dick explained.

‘Messing around?’ Jason looked around the room and his eyes eventually fell on the window. Jason made his way over, fully aware he was being watched, and looked out. The view from this window was of the back of the house. Jason could just see the bottom of the steps that lead to the grounds themselves. ‘Stairs,’ Jason muttered remembering when he’d slipped on the ice that had formed on one of the steps last week. ‘Stairs!’

‘What?’ Dick cocked his head in confusion.

‘Stairs, bird brain. When you, well, actually, maybe not you. But when _normal_ people “prance” around on stairs they fall and get hurt. It’s the staircase!’

Jason raced past them all to the grand staircase and began searching for the next clue.

‘Ha! Got it.’ Jason held up the piece of paper in triumph and waited for a grinning Dick to reach him before ripping it open to reveal the final clue.

_Ah ha, you’ve found_   
_the final clue._   
_Your gift is waiting_   
_just for you_   
_beneath something that_   
_lights up just like_   
_Rudolph’s nose._

‘Rudolph’s nose?’ Dick pondered. ‘The last present is under a light? No, wait, Rudolph’s nose is bright red, right?’ Jason nodded at the crazy man who was shaking his shoulders. ‘What lights up bright at Christmas and _can_ be red?’

‘What? I don’t. Wait. Christmas lights?’

‘Yes, little wing, Christmas lights! It’s back under the tree!’

‘You mean it’s back where we started?’

‘Yep!’

Dick raced off dragging Jason behind him.

Sure enough, there was a gift beneath the tree that had not been there before. In fact, there were two. One wrapped in bright blue and the other in a deep red. Three guesses which is which.

And the first two don’t count.

Jason and Dick tore into their last presents. Inside each was a brand new computer.

‘Awesome, thanks, guys!’ Dick bounced up and hugged bother Bruce and Alfred.

Jason, meanwhile, stared down at the computer. Although Jason had used computers before, he’d never actually owned one. And he’d never been given something so obviously expensive before.

‘Jason? Do you not like it? I can easily change it for something else, if you’d like?’ Bruce asked carefully as he crouched down beside Jason.

‘No! I mean, no, thank you.’ Jason did something then that he hadn’t done before.

He hugged Bruce.

‘I love it, thanks, Bruce.’

‘Of course, Jason, of course,’ Bruce held Jason tightly even when Jason tried to pull away out of shock. ‘It’s okay, Jay. You’re okay.’

Bruce finally let Jason pull away from him and ignored it when Jason brushed away a tear.

‘Hey, we can set them up after we have lunch, yeah?’ Dick asked him from he was still standing beside Alfred.

‘Yeah. Yeah, okay.’ _  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister and I have just used these same clues for my parents to find their Christmas presents. They took far longer than the boys did.


End file.
